


Tranquil Turmoil

by GloriaByrd



Series: Immortal [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaByrd/pseuds/GloriaByrd
Summary: The Inquisition is forever changed after Inquisitor Lanahris Lavellan is turned Tranquil. Lacking the emotions that once restrained her from ending the Dread Wolf, she enters the Crossroads where she finds her long-lost love, Solas. He does not attack. She does. Cullen follows her and finds a corpse. Whose? Read the conclusion of their love story and this tie-in to Immortal!
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Series: Immortal [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129640
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

"My sources have located Solas," Leliana's voice echoed behind the war room door.

"What?" Cullen's voice reverberated through the stone room. "Why haven't we left yet?"

"The Inquisitor's condition," Josephine's voice came softly. The advisor's high heeled shoes could be heard through the thick oaken door, however. "Who knows what she would do if she found Solas now."

There was silence for a moment, but only a moment. "Josie is correct," Leliana affirmed. "Ever since the Inquisitor was turned Tranquil, she has been acting completely out of character. She might find it best to join Solas's cause."

"Or she could kill him," Josephine piped up.

Cullen slammed his hands on the table. "We should be finding a cure to her Tranquility. We _know_ there is a cure after what happened in Adamant a few years ago."

"We understand you are . . . concerned about the Inquisitor's condition," gentle footsteps moved to him, "but we cannot jeopardize that which we have spent years building."

"She is a prisoner of her own mind! Answer me! Why have we not yet cured her?"

Josephine again spoke quietly. "We are unsure of how to cure her without putting her in danger of possession . . . and it seems she does not wish to be cured."

Another moment of silence.

"'Does not wish to be cured'? What do you mean?"

"The pain of Solas's betrayal and abrupt departure disappeared when she became Tranquil."

Cullen's boot scraped against the stone as he whipped around toward Leliana. "She became Tranquil because one of _your_ agents killed her in the Fade while she was trying to rescue Cole."

"Have you not heard her lack of stirring and shouting in her sleep? Have you not noticed her lack of tears and frowns and long days spent locked in her room?"

Cullen held his tongue for a moment. Only a moment. "Where _is_ Solas?"

Leliana responded seconds later. "An elven temple in Orlais. It can be reached through the eluvian here at Skyhold and is the 37th marked eluvian in the Crossroads."

Inquisitor Lanahris Lavellan did not have the need to listen to more of the conversation. She backed away from the door, unaffected, and walked away without a sound. She followed the familiar stone walls of Skyhold receiving mixed looks from Inquisition forces harboring feelings of pride, fear, and sympathy, the last of which had only begun once she was Tranquil. She felt nothing after seeing their expressions, for she no longer experienced emotions. It was a blessing, she thought. Years of depression from Solas's secret of being the elven trickster god Fen'Harel and his refusal to let her join his cause could now be reflected upon without feeling as if her heart was being ripped out. She could lead the Inquisition logically and without the incredible realization that the entire world depended on her crushing her morals each time it came to a soul-wrenching decision. The Tranquil were generally more willing to bend to demands if the conclusion was logical, but she had her advisors to protect her from such a path.

Overall, she was better being Tranquil, she thought.

She reached the eluvian several minutes later. The magical mirror stood much taller than Lanahris and glowed with energies only elves could see the beauties of. Its iridescence shimmered through dust drifting toward the floor continuously. She straightened a belt of potions and poisons and removed a dagger from her boot, habits she had practiced since she became Tranquil, and stepped inside the mirror.


	2. Chapter 2

Lanahris stepped calmly out of the eluvian. Her target stood in the center of the decaying elven temple with his hands over his head. A green spark occasionally flickered inside an undulating green aura that surrounded him. He paced and muttered wildly, seemingly causing the intervals between the green sparks' appearances to shorten. Lanahris did not waste precious time watching his frivolous activity. Unable to channel the power of the Fade due to her Tranquility, she pulled a glass bottle of poison from her belt and threw it at Solas. The poison landed within feet of him. His head raised in surprise, his hands dropping from his head.

_"Vhenan?"_

She heard him, but she had not listened.

Green gas swirled from the broken shards of the bottle and gathered in a large cloud around its remains. Solas's eyes widened, and then narrowed in sudden weariness. He swayed from side to side. He finally lurched forward and landed on his stomach. He rose shakily to his hands and knees and watched her stand alone, afar. His mouth opened and closed as if he was trying to speak, but no sound emitted that could have verified this. In his exhaustion he fell on his side, remaining somewhat upright only by his right hand supporting his weight. The cloud of poison gas began to dissipate. He coughed so roughly he nearly fell over again. Lanahris stepped forward and leaned down before him with her dagger in hand.

"I am no assassin, but I believe I know how to use this," she spoke monotonously. Her face betrayed no emotion, for there was none to show.

His expression contrasted beyond belief in comparison to Lanahris, for it showed that his heart has been rent suddenly into shreds. "You-you're Tranquil." She would have been shocked to see him show so much emotion had she been capable of showing any herself.

"Yes. It appears that alarms you. Do not worry. I will end your dread shortly."

" _Ma vhenan_ ," the Dread Wolf whispered tearfully, "what have they done to you?"

"My Tranquility is the best course of action for leading the Inquisition. Your death is the only logical solution to ending your threat."

He forced himself to sit up before taking her remaining hand in his. She did not object. "I will help you."

"No." She pulled her hand away, gripping her dagger tightly, and plunged it into his ribs. Her face did not move. "This is the logical course of action."

Solas's mouth opened in shock. Then he smiled bittersweetly. "Logical, but not reasonable. I won't leave you like this _. I can't."_ A green flash momentarily blinded them. Lanahris felt Fade magic course through her arm, prickling, yet soothing. Warm and cold. The spirit he summoned from the Fade caressed her mind, repairing the connection to the Fade that when broken had resulted in her Tranquility. Warmth flowed through her body and mind before leaving somewhere no one would know. She suddenly felt, truly felt, Solas's hand clutching hers. She felt the weight of duty settle back upon her shoulders. She felt her heart splinter and shatter at seeing what she had done to her lover. She was unable to speak, only open and close her mouth in horrid realization, for the next several seconds.

"Vhenan!" She released the dagger and tried to ignore his blood coating her hand. She moved to let his head settle on her lap. His skin paled rapidly. "No. No. No. _Please_ , don't leave me."

"Just . . . stay. And . . . speak to me . . . please," he uttered, smiling up at her weakly.

She attempted to return the smile but only succeeded in releasing a sob. Knowing that dying alone was his worst fear, Lanahris pressed herself against him, so that in his final moments he would never doubt his companionship. " _Ir abelas . . . ma, vhenan,"_ came his words in Elven. His eyes never left hers. _"Banal . . . nadas. Dareth . . . shiral. Mala . . . suledin . . . nadas. Ar . . . lath . . . ma, . . . vhenan. Var . . . lath . . . vir . . . suledin,"_ he croaked, taking her slender hand. She remembered herself speaking the last sentence years ago. It had been shortly before he left her for the second to last time. Before, it was she who had been dying. He had explained his plans to her and eased her suffering. She had then lost her left arm to the Anchor from the elbow down and vowed to herself that she would find her beloved. She had found him, in an elven temple where he would die by her own hand; such were the ways fate twisted duty and love to be enemies.

During those years spent in frantic searching and vain imaginings, Lanahris had wished more than anything else to feel his tender caress again before she would give up the ghost to the Fade for eternity. Her search to redeem him had only resulted in his doom. He had not even tried to defend himself for fear of hurting her.

His soft hand stroked her remaining arm tenderly, still steady despite his wounds and heavy breathing. Lanahris knew he already had the power needed the tear down the Veil. He had had it for quite a long time. And somehow, some part of her, knew that he had hesitated because he did not want to risk destroying the world with her in it. The plans he had planted seeds for centuries ago he had snuffed out when so close to fruition, all for her, his vhenan, his heart.

 _"Ma nuvenin,"_ she responded unsteadily, her emotions that had been gathering behind the dam that was her Tranquility gushing out at once. "I've been practicing the words to say to you for years, ever since you left me dying in that elven temple. I was so . . . _angry_. These were going to be angry words. Now I can't think of anything that would be worthy of this moment." She bit her lip to try to hold back sobs. In vain. "You are the _only_ man I have ever loved. You are the _only_ man I ever _will love_ _."_ She took a shuddering breath in an attempt to control her sobs. "When news came to me of your location, I left Skyhold through the eluvian. The entire time I searched for you I was worried I wouldn't be able to tell you I was sorry for searching for you using soldiers. I involved all of Thedas to solve my own problem. I endangered the lives of you and those working with you. What pains me the most is that all that time, I spent convincing myself your plan was wrong. Oh, how _wrong_ I was. I _understand_ you. This world does not deserve saving. You are the _only man_ who has made this world worth living in. And now, above all else, I wish I could have joined you that day when I had the chance. I would rather have _died_ then than to have spent all this time doing what I did. You are unafraid to question the world. You see everything in gray, rather than the black and white stereotypical heroes see. Solas, _ma vhenan_ , you are a hero for these reasons, and I will spend every last moment of my life making sure the world remembers you that way. _Ar lath ma, vhenan. Var lath vir suledin."_

The elves both lay and sat on the ground of the forgotten elven temple. Moss and ivy covered the stones. Dusk's last rays of shimmering sunlight shown through the decayed roof in glorious ladders. The light glinted off the metallic pieces of the elf's armor and off his bare head. A wolfskin draped over one shoulder and integrated into the armor was soaked in blood. Faint whispers from across the Veil ceased. Lanahris's tears cascaded onto his wolfskin cloak and were quickly absorbed by the patches not already soaked in blood. The statue of a wolf, still somehow perfectly intact after thousands of years, indifferently observed them from afar in the temple. Lanahris, her words now said to the empty air and one who could no longer listen, sobbed over the still form of what elves had once believed was a god. He was no god. He was just one who had done what was necessary to save his people, but had failed, providing him an acceptable death. His namesake Solas, meaning "pride" in Elven, had become void. He was free to wander his favorite realm, the Fade, for eternity and would be joined, one day, by his vhenan.

_Halam'shivanas._

The sweet sacrifice of duty.


	3. Chapter 3

A knock reverberated throughout the war room when it was issued at the door. "What now?" Cullen grumbled as he stomped over to answer it. He opened the immense door with minimal effort, something most in Skyhold would be unable to say about themselves. "Report."

The messenger studied the inside of the war room curiously before answering. "The Inquisitor just entered the eluvian, Commander."

"What?" Cullen exclaimed in surprise and outrage.

"She must have been listening at the door," Leliana commented to herself with disdain. Josephine, standing next to Leliana, gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

"What are your orders, ser?"

Cullen hesitated. "Gather the troops. This may be a battle equivalent to that of Corypheus."

"She has gone after Solas," Josephine whispered in shock. "But is she siding with him?"

Cullen whipped around. "Whatever her reasons, she is dangerous, whether to our soldiers or herself. We _must_ cure her Tranquility _now_."

"I will send my agents to find someone capable of curing her," Leliana declared. She swept away without another word, as did Cullen, leaving Josephine to fret over how she could help. Her diplomatic skills would not help on the field of battle, if the situation came to that, but she could send for aid. She too could search for someone who would cure the Inquisitor. She hurriedly ran to her desk in the next room over and began crafting letters to call in favors for the matter.

Cullen headed in the direction of the eluvian. The commander shouted as he hustled, "Prepare for battle! Follow me!" Off-duty soldiers hastily gathered their weapons and passed the order to others before following him. Commander Cullen soon led a small army into the eluvian room. They filed into the magic mirror steadily. The non-elf soldiers had difficulty trudging through the world created only for elves. The magic warded against the races for whom it was not intended. Even the sky was duller compared to what elves saw––a pink and green aura of a sky with scattered flowering trees lining the rocky path, while non-elves saw only a gray sky and barren trees. Despite the wards, Cullen was the first human to reach the 37th eluvian. Cullen held up his closed fist as a sign for them to wait for his command to continue. He stepped through first, the Crossroads dissolving behind him and becoming a forested courtyard in an elven temple. His hand clenched at his sword hilt, prepared at any moment to battle his way out. He relaxed, however, when he saw the scene unfolding in the center of the courtyard. His sword dropped back in its sheath with a _clang_. He cautiously started forward, seeing Solas was there. The distance between him and the pair was too great to make out who was injured and what their current situation was. When he was close enough, he saw Lanahris huddling over Solas, her back racking with sobs. A dark stain crept along Solas's wolfskin pinned to his armor on his chest. The male elf did not stir. Lanahris did not seem to notice Cullen's presence. The commander was then close enough to touch her shoulder. He reached his hand out to comfort her but then pulled away. The understanding had at last come to his mind that she was no longer Tranquil. How this could have occurred he could only guess, but he knew that newly-cured Tranquil tend to be too overwhelmed with emotions as it is, not to mention Lanahris's conditions. She truly had had the weight of the world lifted off her shoulders, then dumped back on. She had forgotten the sting of betrayal from Solas leaving her, only to have that love and simultaneous ire flow back again and then die in her arms. Cullen wanted to hold her, to tell her he would never leave her. He would not be like Solas in that respect. He would protect her till the end of her days if that was what she desired. But he could not bring himself to touch the sobbing woman who had just watched her world be rent apart.

"Lana," he gathered the strength to utter.

She did not hear him.

His voice came out stronger. "Inquisitor."

Her pointed ears pricked up slightly, but she shook her head.

"Inquisitor . . ." He could think of to assuage her state of mind.

Cullen jumped at the touch of a hand on his own shoulder. He whipped around. "What?" he mouthed.

The soldier of his did not respond. She only watched dumbfoundedly as the Inquisitor mourned in sounds of fury and absolute heartbreak. Cullen pointed back at the eluvian, commanding the soldier to return to Skyhold and explaining wordlessly that he would be there shortly. She nodded and obeyed his orders. Only the sounds of wind and Lanahris's sobs could be heard in the temple in which silence had reigned for time untold.

Cullen finally decided it was time. He knelt beside the Inquisitor and whispered, "Lanahris. There is nothing you can do. We must go."

"No. _No_ _._ I can't leave him. He healed me. I have to heal him."

"There is nothing more to heal," he replied consolingly. Though his demeaner was calm, he had never been so terrified in his life. The countless battles he had experienced did not compare to seeing the hero of Thedas, the Herald of Andraste, the strongest woman he had ever known, even including both the Hero of Ferelden and Hawke, at her weakest. It was worse than hearing a man cry. Much worse.

"He can't be dead," she explained disbelievingly. "Elvhen are immortal. _He can't be dead_."

"Let's go back to Skyhold."

"I won't leave him. I won't ever leave him. Not again. Not after I just found him!"

"People are depending on y––"

"Screw them! Screw Thedas! They killed him! They . . . I . . . killed him." She broke down again.

Cullen stole a glimpse of the eluvian for a moment. He worried the portal would close, and they would be stuck in the middle of nowhere forever. Even with his templar training he was not comfortable when it came to magic. "You cannot stay here," he tried to explain.

"Yes, I can."

"Inquisitor––"

"Do _not_ call me that! I never wanted this! This world has taken too much from me already! Let it end here, lest I suffer more."

Cullen sighed, realizing there would be no persuading her to leave. He disliked what he would have to do, but it the Inquisitor's current condition, it was entirely plausible she would not move even if she began to starve. He wrapped his arms around her and began dragging her toward the eluvian. Lanahris struggled, calling for Solas, but Cullen forced himself on with tears gathering in his eyes. It was not for the pain of her clawing at his arms, nor her booted feet kicking at his shins. Rather, it was for the injustices the world would never see, and for the unrequired love he held. The portal of the eluvian slipped by him coldly. He felt as if he was Tranquil, dragging the resisting Inquisitor with him, the soldiers watching their hero at her weakest, the pain of the Crossroads for non-elves biting at his skin; he did not care at all. He traipsed, but at least he moved. His militia followed him sullenly, forgetting in their shock and Cullen's lack of commands to even march. Everything was a haze. The second eluvian washed icily over him like the first. He emerged in Skyhold, a group already crowding him.

All he cared for was Lanahris.


	4. Chapter 4

Josephine was nearly finished with her fifth letter when she heard shouts from the direction of the eluvian room. Struggling slightly with running in her high heels on uneven stone, she rushed to the source of the cries. A small throng had already gathered when she reached the source. Despite the height of her boots, she was unable to make out what was unfolding due to the high conical helmets of Inquisition soldiers in front of her. The crowd was parting, she realized, and she moved to make way for Cullen and Leliana. Her eyes widened when she saw the Inquisitor struggling against Cullen's grip with Leliana walking beside them, speaking softly to Lanahris. Lanahris seemed so puny in Cullen's muscular arms, not at all the most powerful woman in Thedas the title of Inquisitor had bestowed upon her. Though she kicked and clawed at Cullen's arms, she could not break free of his vice-like grip. He was stoic, whereas the Inquisitor had streaks of tears staining her cheeks, and her face was contorted by despair and fury. She screamed a long, mournful sound, one that made the hairs on Josephine's neck rise. Never before had she heard a sound so desperate, so full of pain. The Inquisition soldiers seemed to lack the experience too, for they jumped at the sound, some even opening their mouths in shock. Cullen bit his lip. Faint tear streaks glistened on his face. Leliana made no notion of even hearing Lanahris and continued to speak consolingly to her. "Let me go!" Lanahris cried out. "Please! I need to save him!"

"You can't save him," Josephine heard Leliana whisper as they walked by. "You can't save everyone."

Josephine's lips parted slightly in alarm before realizing she should follow them, her being an advisor to the Inquisitor and part of the war council. She trailed behind them, compelling herself to remain calm to hopefully help the Inquisitor do the same.

"I killed him!" Lanahris wailed while Cullen carried her to her chambers inside the fortress. She then quieted so suddenly it was eerie. Josephine picked at her nails, one of her bad habits, in order to combat the effect. It did not help.

Cullen set Lanahris down on her bed, though she fell more than she settled. Leliana stood behind him and Josephine behind her. Lanahris lay unsettlingly still on top of her bed sheets, her eyes trained lazily on the blank ceiling above her, as if she was watching something no one else could see. Josephine looked to Leliana and Cullen, waiting for something, anything, to break the heart-pounding silence that made her afraid to even swallow.

Finally, Cullen spoke. "What happened?" His voice came softer than Josephine had ever heard it.

Lanahris remained silent for several long moments. "Solas is dead." Her voice was so blunt Josephine was unsure if she had heard it correctly. Solas? _Dead?_ After years of searching, this was how it ended? No big fight? No celebration? Just absolute silence, like a forest with no life. Heart-pounding silence.

" _Dead_ _?_ " Leliana asked, as if mirroring her thoughts.

Lanahris said nothing.

"Would you be willing to explain?" Leliana's voice caressed each word, her Orlesian accent making it come out even gentler than Cullen's tone.

"My Tranquility made me believe . . ." Lanahris spoke with difficulty, "that killing Solas was the logical solution to his threat. I took a poison bottle from the store room and some daggers. I threw the poison at him. He fell. I stabbed him. Then, he cured my Tranquility. I realized too late what I had done. He died. Then you came. You know the rest." She was shock. Josephine realized Lanahris was shivering, though she doubted it was from cold. Long-time inhabitants of Skyhold had become acclimated to the temperatures of the Frostback Mountains long ago.

Josephine stepped forward, knowing that this was her time to talk. Decades of being trained when and when not to speak while preparing to be an ambassador were invaluable. "Get her a blanket." Cullen was the one to respond to her command, and as he filled the requisition, she sat down at the foot of the bed. "You were not yourself, Lana. Do not blame yourself." She moved to set her hand on the Inquisitor's remaining hand to comfort her, but she jumped back when she saw lightning beginning to crackle along her arm in warning. Lanahris's face remained unchanged. Evidently, Josephine's lessons had not covered how to console a friend who had just killed the love of her life. She stood, backing away and letting Cullen set the blanket over her. Leliana then stepped forward.

"You killed your lover. And you admired him. He betrayed you. He left you. He lied to you. What you are feeling now is no stranger to me. My mentor betrayed me. Marjolaine taught me how to be a bard, an assassin. I trusted her with my life. She lured me with kind words, but she truly had wicked eyes and a wicked heart. She betrayed my friends and me. I was tortured, while my friend Tug was murdered. She blamed me for a crime she committed, and I later killed her." She took a deep but calm breath. "You are not lost, Inquisitor. _Not yet._ You regret your decision, one that you did not truly make. The Hero of Ferelden reassured me in a similar way after I killed Marjolaine, and it helped for a time. When I became a hand of the Divine, I became the person I once dreaded to be. I no longer regret my decision to kill Marjolaine, but you regret what happened with Solas in the end. You may be wandering, but you are not lost."

Lanahris closed her eyes and spoke softly. "I saved everyone but my _vhenan_. I am a hero, but I cannot save those close to me. How, then, am I a hero? How can I possibly be worthy of the title 'Inquisitor'?"

"None are worthy," Leliana responded. "It is just that some are more worthy than others."

"But am I still worthy?"

"Solas would have died, whether it was at your hands or another's. The difference is the cost. It was either your heart or Thedas. You chose your heart. That is something few in Thedas would choose. That makes you more worthy of the title."

Lanahris jerked up into a sitting position. "But I killed him! How does killing someone I love make me worthy?"

"That is the paradox of it. You doing what needed to be done yet feeling regret . . . power sprinkled with remorse is what makes a great leader, a hero."

"She needs to go home." All but Lanahris turned to Cullen who had spoken. "She needs to go back to the Dalish, or wherever she wishes to retire. Thedas has asked enough of her."

"There can be no rest after such a journey. I cannot return to the secluded realm I once called home. It is gone."

"You can't lead the Inquisition after . . . that," Cullen protested.

"And I cannot return home. Not after learning the truth about the Dalish, about the Elvhen, that we wear slave markings to preserve what little history we have. The simple pleasures of this life are lost to me. I will stay here for as long as I am able."

"But––"

Josephine stepped in front of him, setting a hand on his chest in restraint while watching Lanahris. The Inquisitor's hair sat on her head in an utter mess, her sharp ears poking out defiantly below it. Her mascara-stained cheeks were otherwise pale, and her eyes seemed to have lost their light. Her missing arm's sleeve hung limply at her side, the pin having fallen out. Her clothes were wrinkled horrendously. Her blanket was wrapped around her as if she was a traumatized child. Her thin elven frame was in stark contrast to the enormous bed. Yet she looked strong, as if there was a magical heroic aura around her. Her face was set in grim resolve, her fist clenched. Josephine knew that if for some reason they were called out at this very moment to defeat a new fiend threatening Thedas, she would gear up and fight like any other day. The Inquisitor truly was the strongest person she knew. There would be no talking her down from remaining in the Inquisition, unless they could agree on a small break.

"Convalescence. You need it," Josephine spoke up. "A few months, maybe? Pick where you want to go, and I will make sure you are received with open arms."

Lanahris considered this for several long moments. "I agree, but I do not need any escorts or warm welcomes. Not where I am going. I will be back, but it will likely take longer than a few months, maybe even years. I trust that you three will run the Inquisition in my stead, making the right decisions, whatever those may be. Appoint a new Inquisitor, if you like. Just know that I will be on a mission, one that will have effects even I do not yet know."

Josephine was not sure if she should be concerned about the concealed objective of her quest; however, the Inquisitor was agreeing to rest, something that _never_ happened, so Josephine accepted without hesitation. They would have needed a new Inquisitor soon anyway; the Inquisitor had been making fewer and fewer decisions each day, not to mention she never went out in the field anymore. Cullen and Leliana agreed soon after.

"I will leave soon," the Inquisitor stated. "Do not follow me."

The trio of the war council left the Inquisitor to her mourning. Josephine noticed Cullen hesitated at the doorway, looking back at the Inquisitor with concern, before following Josephine and closing the door. They tried to ignore the heart-wrenching sobs that then emitted from the room as they walked away. Their only solace was that the Inquisitor would soon have her much-deserved rest. However, something still gave Josephine a bad feeling about this course of action. As if confirming the ominous feeling, a raven cawed once in the rafters above before falling to the ground, dead in front of the trio. They stopped, and Leliana knelt down to inspect the bird. Its feathers were disheveled. Blood ran from its nostrils. Josephine wondered if it could have been infected with the blight sickness.

"This is not one of my ravens. _Wait_ _._ There's a message." She undid the red ribbon tying the small letter to the raven's leg and unrolled the note. She read it out loud.

_Briala,_

_This may be the last time I speak to you. The red lyrium is taking over my mind. I can't get myself to get rid of it. I am having horrid thoughts. Do not come to see me. If you do, however, do not trust me. Just remember me as I was. Know that you were, and still are, special to me. You do not know how much I wished this to be. Farewell, my Raven._

_~T_

"This raven was obviously inexperienced," Leliana commented.

"Briala? The letter mentioned Briala." Cullen peeked over Leliana's shoulder.

Josephine's memory suddenly clicked with the letter. "She was that half-elf, correct?"

"Yes," Cullen answered.

Leliana read over the letter again. "Who is _T_?"

Cullen pondered out loud. "And why did this _T_ mention red lyrium?"

"I believe it is worth investigating, if we have the resources and time," Josephine voiced.

"Our focus must be on the Inquisitor," Leliana declared. She folded the note and placed it securely in a hidden pocket in her clothing.

If only that note had been discovered by Briala herself. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! If you would like to support me as an author, please pick up a copy of one of my books from Amazon: The White Phoenix Saga (fantasy series): EverFire, The Burning Arrows, Blood of the Elders; Artist's Whispers (poetry collection): Tomorrow's Dreams; A Bard's Tales (short story collection): Venture Forth. For more info, visit my bio or follow me on Insta @writer.gloriabyrd


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